


lovesong

by swv



Series: Matt Skiba: Body Appreciation Series [3]
Category: Blink-182
Genre: Anal Fingering, Depression, Dry Humping, Friends With Benefits, Frotting, M/M, No Sex, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-22 12:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swv/pseuds/swv
Summary: Mark is restlessly pacing around, anxiety eating away at him. And it seems like Matt is making him even more skittish. In a bad way.





	lovesong

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fidget of my imagination, nothing more.  
> I don’t make money of this and I don’t own anybody.
> 
> This is also not beta read, but I feel confident enough to upload this even without having someone go over this since these parts usually are the parts that requires the least correction.
> 
> Going in a different direction with the body appreciation series with this one, hope you like it!

Mark felt like he had sighed his heart out over the course of the day. It was a traveling day, but they had arrived a long time ago and had nothing left to do but lounge around the rest of the day. Mark usually liked their days off – just hanging around and read the latest book he’d picked up or visiting a museum, but today he had a restlessness ticking inside him. Making every thought toxic and amping up his anxiety.

 

Travis was off with the kids somewhere, leaving Matt as the only company around and Mark usually wouldn't complain. Today though, it seemed like Matt was making him even more restless.

 

He and Matt had this agreement with one another for lonely nights on tour – a quick hand job here and, if he was lucky, a rushed blow job there. Few and far apart, but Mark had started to desire something more. And in wishing for that he had made their relationship that much harder. He hadn't told Matt about his yearning – _God, just to kiss him once –_ and that put a strain on their conversations, on them hanging out. He imagined Matt reading his every thought and feeling on his face and feeling uncomfortable to the point where he excused himself just to get away from Mark as soon as possible.

 

He sat down in the dressing room backstage, having wandered the venue as the tecs set up their geir, only to have Matt walk in on him where he sat deep in thoughts. He looked up and saw that Matt was about to excuse himself again, but something stopped him. _Maybe I just look that miserable._

 

“Hey man, you okay?” Matt asked and Mark thought he saw just how anxious Matt was to get a _yeah, fine_ and be on his way.

 

He was just about to comply when Matt stepped inside the room and carefully closed the door behind him, eyes boarding into Mark's in such an honest way that Matt had to look away.

 

When Matt spoke again he had closed a lot of the distance between them. “You look… on edge?” Mark saw him from the corner of his eye sitting on the other side of the couch, looking into the wall opposite from them.

 

Matt's profile was so beautiful that Mark couldn't help but look away, too scared that his feelings would show.

 

“You need anything to…” Matt paused and turned to Mark, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “You know, to keep you grounded, or whatever?” That was Matt's way of asking if he wanted sex and Mark felt conflicted. He wanted to feel Matt close again, but he also wanted to be _closer_ with him. Something that wasn't on the table.

 

“You might need to get me there.” He answered, neither _yes_ or _no_ , an opening for Matt to leave if he wanted.

 

But Matt smiled and looked him up and down. “For that? I'd do some unspeakable things just to get there with you right now.” It was a playful response, but Mark knew that in the end it was just that; playful banter. Not attraction or wanting.

 

He leaned back to lay on the couch and Matt's smile grew as he climbed to straddle Mark's hips. “Tell me how to get you there?” He asked and rolled his hips slowly over Mark's crotch, creating warm friction.

 

Mark knew what he wanted, what he always wanted, but knew he couldn't ask that of Matt. He couldn't ask Matt to kiss him, to get naked and let Mark explore all that skin with his fingers and mouth. Matt would surely get disgusted with him and leave, and that would crush him right now.

 

“Well, you're a showman, give me a show?” He asked carefully as Matt's rolling hips did nothing but creating warmth.

 

Matt stopped at that, looking down on Mark with wide eyes. _This is where he leaves, God, why did I have to say that? He doesn't want an ugly, old man perving over him!_ This was something they never done before and the anticipation and anxiety had Mark sweating.

 

And then Matt got up on his knees, arching and showing off his body as his hands traveled down his front – from his lips to a strong grab at his crotch that had him gasping. Mark had trouble making up his mind; should his eyes follow the fingers reading ‘ _song’_ as they continued to rub over Matt's crotch, or should he follow the fingers reading ‘ _love’_ as they worked their way under his t-shirt and revealing more and more of that golden skin. He didn't have to make up his mind as the left hand soon joined the right one to lift the shirt over Matt's head.

 

And when the shirt finally lifted over Matt's head their eyes met in a nervous pause. Matt looked anxious and Mark felt sorry for practically forcing him to show off his body in a way that must be so uncomfortable for him. He had the decency to look away, eyes finding Matt's hands that still held the shirt.

 

He hadn't thought much about them before, but Matt's hands was beautiful. Long fingers wrapped around the fabric in his hands, uncurling to drop the shirt on the floor in precise movements one could expect from an artist. You could see that Matt worked with his hands in the strong joints and little cuts on the side of his fingers, but also in the way he took care of his cuticles and in how well formed and even his nails where. The many tattoos on his fingers, knowing his hands would always be on display in his line of work.

 

He followed them hungrily with his gaze while the left hand returned to kneed at his bulge and the right one traced up his body, slim fingers brushing over sensitive nipples. Mark couldn't remember what callused fingers felt like on sensitive skin, his own had just been there for the last thirty years or so but it was a long time since he thought of how they felt. Was Matt regretting picking up the guitar and making his fingertips hard? Did he wish for a soft touch? Or did the roughness against sensitive skin heighten the pleasure? How would they taste? Mark had an insatiable desire to suck on Matt's fingers, feeling their rough pads against his tongue and hearing Matt's breathless pleas.

 

He cast a quick look up at Matt, seeing his head thrown back – _in pleasure or does he just not want to look at my ugly face? –_ and soft whines escaping his lips. His right hand fingers rolling a nipple between them, carefully tugging on it from time to time while the left speed up over his clothed dick.

 

Matt suddenly fell forward, catching himself in the last second on his arms, hands on either side of Mark’s head. His head hung low as he tried to catch his breath, hips spasming against Mark's own, creating wonderful friction when they rubbed against each other.

 

“I'm close, Mark, please.” Matt sobbed out as he speed up his hips, Mark almost blushed at how wrecked Matt looked. And finding he was only half hard he most certainly felt the warmth spread over his cheeks. _Can't even get the simplest thing right, can I?_

 

“Mark?” He looked up at Matt staring at him, eyes dark and hazy, lips swollen and red – _he must have bitten them, I wonder what they taste like._ “What else do you need? Because we need to get this started if you don't want this to be a one man show.”

 

 _I don't mind that._ Mark thought but he suspected that Matt wouldn't appreciate it. Instead he gathered up as much courage as he could and placed his hands on Matt's hips, pulling them closer. Matt almost screamed out loud at the contact of their groins; head hanging and sobbing uncontrollably at every brush of their groins. Mark wanted more.

 

He bravely reached his hands behind Matt, squeezing his ass in his hands, feeling Matt buck under him. He was just about to withdraw his hands, certain that he crossed a line, when Matt sat up and without hesitation unbuckled his belt. Mark followed him with big eyes as Matt got up and dropped his pants, before straddling him again. Gloriously naked.

 

“Now what?” Matt's voice was shaky, chest heaving rapidly. Hands turned palms up on his thighs – Mark wanted to kiss his palms, feeling the fingers he adored brush against his face as he did.

 

Mark took a deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the hands that would haunt his dreams for nights on end. “Now the real show can begin.” He mumbled, almost sounding as breathless as Matt looked.

 

“Mark, I can't…” Matt begun, but stopped himself. A light lit up Matt's eyes and Mark was almost dreadful of what was to come.

 

He realized he had every right to be as Matt sucked two fingers into his mouth, fellating them like the pro Mark knew him to be from the rare blowjobs he’d gotten from Matt in the past. Matt's lips stretched around his knuckles, spit running down his hand and then the fingers were pulled from his mouth – Matt looked so reluctant to let them go.

 

Matt got up on his knees and Mark thought his heart would fail him as Matt's hand disappeared behind him. A second of silence when neither of them breathed. And then Matt's eyes rolled back, mouth opening without making a sound. Mark could hear the spit covered fingers breach Matt's most private parts and instantly wished it was his fingers – _dick –_ that was breaching Matt.

 

Matt's other hand reached down between them and grabbed Mark through the fabric of his pants and boxers. It felt like heaven. The weight of Matt in his lap, his little ruts against Mark's thigh and his hand speeding up over Mark; he would come in his pants at any moment if Matt didn't stop soon.

 

Matt must have been satisfied with the firmness of Mark's dick as well, because suddenly everything went so much faster. Matt's fingers were pulled out of him and whipped clean on Mark's leg and then Matt opened Mark's fly with his other hand. Mark helped him by pulling his pants down just enough for Matt to wrap his hands around him. _Why show off my disgusting old man body more than necessary and turn him off?_

 

Mark was about to wrap his hand around Matt's dick, but Matt swatted his hand away. “Let's do something different today.” Matt's chest was only centimeters from Mark's, one last piece of distance between them that Mark couldn't make himself to breach. Matt didn't want him personally anyway, he had made that much clear when he refused Mark's touch just now. Mark was just the means to an end.

 

He felt Matt's breath against the skin of his neck when Matt suddenly started rolling his hips again, their cocks rubbing up against each other. It was pure bliss. The skin on skin friction and the heavy warmth of Matt against his own dick was amazing. And the little whimpers and deep, rumbling moans passing Matt's lips spurred him on. Mark couldn't help but grab Matt's hips, rocking them harder together. Matt cried out and finally closed the last piece of distance between them by resting his head against Mark's shoulder.

 

Mark was helpless at Matt's blessed out state, he wanted to bring him the best orgasm he had ever had. His hands worked back to Matt's ass again, the new grip making Matt's back arch at each new thrust. A little pool of drool gathered at Mark's chest but he couldn't care less about that right now.

 

“Mark, ha- wait!” Matt pulled back and sat up. He was a beautiful sight with a blush spreading down his neck, staining his chest, and hair sweaty and messy. Those beautiful fingers – _how could I forget those beautiful fingers? –_ running through blond locks.

 

A firm grip around Mark's wrist and then Matt sucked on his fingers, coating them generously with saliva, before pulling off. Matt’s long fingers wrapped all the way around Mark’s wrist, steadily holding him and just the firmness of those slender fingers had Mark’s breath catch.

 

A thin sliver of blue meeting gray eyes. “Mark, fuck me, please?” Matt breathed, pushing Mark's hand around and against himself.

 

Mark lost his breath for a moment, before scolding himself back to reality. _He just wants to get off, that's what our deal is all about – getting off when we have no one else._ He grabbed Matt's hip with one hand to still his squirming before breaching his band mates body with both of his fingers at once.

 

Matt looked out of it, like he was on the edge and about to tip over at any moment – at any movement. And the Mark brushed his prostate. It was like a button, the previously silent Matt suddenly was a sobbing, begging mess.

 

If Mark had dared looking into Matt's eyes at that very moment he would have seen actual tear gathering in the corner of his eyes at the precise stimulation. Instead Mark tried to take in as much skin as possible, remembering the feeling of Matt's soft and warm skin under his hand, remembering the heaviness of Matt's dick on his stomach. Remembering Matt clenching spasmodically around his fingers all while he wished it was around something else.

 

After a moment Matt seemed to gather himself enough to wrap his long fingers around both of their cocks, slowly stroking them together before fucking himself between Mark's and his own hand. Mark followed Matt’s hand around them as it speed up every time Matt fucked himself against Mark’s dick, slowing down as the guitarist took his fingers deeper; it was so perfectly synced that Mark was certain Matt had done this may times. _With many different men._

 

It didn't take long before Matt sobbed out loud one last time and came over Mark's shirt, rocking himself through the afterglow and triggering Mark's own orgasm.

 

Mark had barely gathered his thoughts, much less his breath, before he realised what they’d just done. He had practically forced himself on Matt and shame burned deep in him. He pulled out of Matt, away from him.

 

“Um, I should probably go wash up.” He mumbled against Matt’s hair, he had fallen over him after Mark came. Mark got up, careful to not disturb Matt too much and tucked himself back in his pants. “Thanks man.” And then he rushed out the door.

 

*****

 

Matt fell back on the couch, the cold of the room prickling his skin. _Fuck._ He had come so hard that he lost all capacity to think for a moment, but that was all it took for Mark to slip away. Again.

 

He reached for his shirt, but couldn't find the strength to put it on. He remembered Mark's empty eyes looking at him – _why do I always have to be_ _acting like a whore around him?_ Mark was probably disgusted with him, taking pleasure in getting fucked and wishing for more than just fingers.

 

And all Matt wanted was for Mark to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing this! Please feel free to let me know what you think in the comment field below maybe?


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